


we'll only be making it right

by returnsandreturns



Category: Daredevil (TV)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, OT3, eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-06
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:00:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21697345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/returnsandreturns/pseuds/returnsandreturns
Summary: Karen kisses him the night before Matt’s funeral, a month after the building came down and Matt never came out—when they had to stop looking and hoping and buy a casket to bury empty.They get dinner together and Foggy walks her back to her apartment. They both had too much wine because neither of them are ready for tomorrow and it’s strong on her breath when she pulls him in close and murmurs, “Just—let me,” and kisses him on the mouth.
Relationships: Franklin "Foggy" Nelson/Karen Page, Matt Murdock/Franklin "Foggy" Nelson/Karen Page
Comments: 13
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is going into an OT3 direction but mostly just a sad rough sex direction in the immediate future! Hi!

Karen kisses him the night before Matt’s funeral, a month after the building came down and Matt never came out—when they had to stop looking and hoping and buy a casket to bury empty.

They get dinner together and Foggy walks her back to her apartment. They both had too much wine because neither of them are ready for tomorrow and it’s strong on her breath when she pulls him in close and murmurs, “Just—let me,” and kisses him on the mouth.

Foggy knows he shouldn’t but he kisses her back, sliding fingers into her hair. He can’t help it.

Karen breaks the kiss after a couple of minutes, backs down to the step below him and covers her face with her hands for a second before she looks up with a hopeful smile and says, “Come up with me.”

“Oh, no,” Foggy says, laughing. “Absolutely not.”

“Come _on_ ,” Karen says, taking his hand and squeezing it “It’s _us_ , let’s just—let’s distract each other from what we have to do tomorrow.”

“You’re drunk, Page,” he says, pulling her back up to the same step.

“I’m tipsy at most.”

“Then _I’m_ drunk,” he says, leaning up to kiss her forehead. “Stop trying to take advantage of me.”

She frowns at him but melts into a hug when he wraps his arms around her, burying her face in his shoulder and taking a deep, shaky breath—holding on when he tries to let her go.

“’m not just doing this because of Matt,” she murmurs.

“I know,” he says, squeezing her tight. “I’m irresistible.”

Karen’s laugh is muffled before she steps back and smiles, genuine and sweet.

“You really are,” she says.

“Go sleep,” Foggy says. “I’ll see you at the church tomorrow.”

“Ugh,” she says, softly. “I hate church.” “Good thing Matt’s not around to hear you say that,” Foggy says, and she lets out a surprised laugh, covering her face again until she catches her breath and drops her arms, letting them hang beside her as she backs up a few more steps.

“No jokes in the eulogy,” she says, pointing at him.

“There will be at least four jokes in the eulogy,” he says. “ _Sleep_.”

She just points at him for a long moment before sighing and turning around to go inside, leaving him on the steps to sort out everything that just happened, kisses and all.

*

They're both at fault the next time it happens, collapsed on Matt's sofa after trying to sort through his things. Foggy drapes his arm around her and Karen moves in close and they're just sharing space, sharing the feeling of both of them being alive; they try to make themselves believe that they're lucky because it could've been them at anytime. Foggy's bled more in the last two years than he has in his entire life. Hurt more in the last month than he hopes he ever will again.

Karen says something so soft that he doesn't catch it and when he turns to say something, their faces are so close that Foggy's breath catches.

They're going to kiss again. It doesn't matter whether or not they should, at this point, but Foggy tries, says, "We--we can't. I know you miss Matt, but--"

"It's not about Matt," Karen says, like it hurts a little to say, not moving closer but not moving away, either. Her hair falls in her face and Foggy's fingers betray him, unable to resist running through it and tucking it behind her ear. Karen's makes a face that almost hurts to look at, some emotion that he can't express but has felt like a punch to the gut over and over recently.

"You loved him, right?" he asks.

"Didn't you?" she asks. It's sharp but she makes a face like she didn't mean for it to be.

He goes quiet because he knows what she's asking and it doesn't seem fair that he has to talk about this, that he kept it to himself all this time and now Matt's gone and he still has to acknowledge this thing he built walls around inside himself when he was nineteen or twenty--when little touches and smiles just for him and all of these things that made him feel like _maybe_ weren't enough for him to hold onto anymore.

"I shouldn't have said that," Karen says, sighing and pressing a kiss to his cheek before she moves to sit with their shoulders pressed together. "I don't know what went on between you two. If you ever. . ."

"Matt didn't tell you about it, then?" he asks. He doesn't want to know.

"About what?" Karen asks. "Were you two actually a thing? I couldn't decide if it was crazy or if it made perfect sense but--you kind of wear your whole heart on your face, Fog."

"No, it--it was just me, but Matt must have known," Foggy says. "If he could hear my heartbeat that whole time? It must have been misfiring the entire first year we lived together. I--I fucking told him how hot he was, like _, five seconds_ after he walked in the room for the first time and I almost buried myself _alive_ after _._ He had to have known."

"I'm about to speak ill of the dead," Karen says, sighing, "but I doubt it. Matt was an oblivious idiot."

Foggy chokes on a laugh, tipping his head back for a second before he pulls Karen into his arms to hug her while she laughs, too, shaking and sweet. They stay like that for what feels like forever, clinging to each other, before Karen presses a kiss to his shoulder through his shirt and asks, softly, "Did you love him?"

"Yeah," Foggy says, cheek pressed to her hair, not bothering to lie because Matt being gone doesn't change the fact that loving him was something Foggy still wore like a favorite sweater that he shrunk in the wash years ago. "Did you?"

"Yeah," Karen echoes.

They're going to kiss again. Foggy wants to tell her that it wasn't just Matt, that he _hated_ both of them for about five hours before he made himself get over it because he was jealous and he didn't know who to be jealous of. They don't talk, though, and Karen moves in an inch and Foggy moves in an inch and suddenly he's pulling her up into his lap and kissing her and kissing her. Matt's apartment feels like it's echoing the harsh sound of their breathing, these low pleased noises from Karen that make Foggy want to lay her out on the floor and get his head between her legs.

"Bed," Karen pants, when Foggy's hand slides down the small of her back, tucks cautiously in the waistband of her jeans.

"Won't that be weird--" Foggy starts, even though he's pretty sure that he stopped caring about what's weird or not awhile ago. "If you and Matt--"

"We never slept together," Karen says, biting gently at his lip before she sits back to look at him straight in the eye. "Matt treated me like I was--like I was a doll. Like I was breakable and innocent and--"

She cuts herself off, groaning in frustration.

"Can I be honest with you, Foggy?" she asks.

"It seems like the theme of the night."

"I want you to give me something Matt didn't," she says, placing her hands on his shoulders, "and--I want to give you that, too."

She raises her eyebrows like she's waiting for a question she didn't actually ask. He can pretty much read it in the tenseness of her own shoulders, though, set and cautious.

". . .fuck it," Foggy sighs, turning to drop her onto her back on the couch, following easily when she laughs and reaches up to pull him down with her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was not even where i was intending this fic to go, like, a million years ago when i wrote it, but UHM 
> 
> HAVE THIS THING

“Keep going,” Karen gasps, with Foggy’s head between her legs, after she just clenched around his fingers inside of her and came hard enough she had to muffle the noises she made with her hand. “Please.” 

Foggy lifts his head for long enough to catch his breath before sinking back down again, pressing a kiss to her clit before he licks around it slowly, making her twitch and moan softly.

It takes her awhile to come again but she’s sprawled out and sweaty and beautiful when he wipes his face off with his discarded t-shirt and crawls back up her body to kiss her, grinning down at her when she laughs breathlessly and says, “Thanks.” 

“No problem,” he says, leaning into her hand when she touches his cheek for a moment before running her fingers through his hair, kissing him again before gently pulling him down to wrap him up in her arms. Karen’s an unrepentant big spoon and she also likes somebody on top of her, basically tugs Foggy where she wants him with his head resting on her breasts and his arm around her.

It’s been four months since Matt’s funeral and they can’t stop meeting up at his place, can’t get rid of it, like them spending time there will fill the space he left behind.

“I really can’t keep paying for rent here and my own place,” he says, eventually. “Would it be. . . _ too  _ fucked up for me to just move in?”

“No such thing,” Karen murmurs, softly, before adding, “Would it be more fucked up if I moved in, too?”

“. . .the cost of living in this city is what’s truly fucked up,” he says, slowly, “but do you really want to move in together?”

“I don’t like sleeping alone anymore,” Karen says, like she’s been thinking about it. “And. . .I don’t know. I love you. I just don’t know what that means right now.” 

“I don’t either,” Foggy says, “but I love you, too.” 

Karen’s his best friend because he lost his best friend and she’s his family and he’s always had a crush on her the size of the moon but he’s good, he’s  _ so fucking good _ , at setting crushes aside to make things easier on everybody else. 

He just doesn’t think that he can be  _ in  _ love with anyone right now, even Karen.

He loves her, though. Kind of like the way he let himself love Matt. 

“It’s a fiscally wise choice,” Foggy says, when Karen doesn’t say anything else, sitting up to see her staring at the ceiling. “Matt’s rent is the cheapest. And his bed is. . .” 

“ _ So  _ comfortable,” Karen says. “Is it fucked up that we kept his sheets?” 

“. . .yes,” Foggy says. “We should buy new sheets.”

“Silk?” 

“It’s what Matt would have wanted,” Foggy says, feeling weird about laughing but Karen laughs first, lets it fade into a shaky sigh. 

“God,” she says. “Let’s do it.” 

*

Foggy doesn’t know how to stop thinking about it as  _ Matt’s place _ but they bring in their own things to fill in the sparse amount he left behind, packed up the clothes that neither of them can stand to get rid of and filled up his closet with their own.

Foggy has never lived with a woman that he wasn’t related to. He’s actually only ever lived with  _ Matt _ . But after the first few months where they figure out all their shit, all the boundaries and gross habits and him reminding Karen to eat and Karen reminding him to sleep. . .it seems like it’s working. He tells her one night when they’re curled up on the couch together that this is the least fucked up he’s felt in a long time and she laughs and says, “Doesn’t it kind of feel like we’re playing?” 

“Playing?” he prompts.

“Making dinner together,” she says. “Watching late night shows. Holding hands.” 

“I’m not playing about holding hands,” Foggy says. “I’d hold anyone’s hand if they’d let me.” 

“Do you want to get married?” Karen asks.

Foggy chokes on whatever he was going to say next and sits up, gaping at Karen’s hesitant smile.

“Did you just  _ propose  _ to me, Page?” he asks.

“Sort of. It. . .makes sense somehow,” Karen says, shrugging. “And nothing has really made sense lately.”

“You’re not wrong,” Foggy says, watching her face intently before he leans in to kiss her softly on the mouth, leaving his hand where it’s cupping her cheek. “Are you sure about this? We already kind of skipped a step or two moving in together. There’s usually at least some romancing before someone ties the knot.”

“I don’t want to be romanced,” Karen says, making a face at him. “I just want someone to care about me and fuck me and be. . .legally obligated to stay with me. Is that too much to ask?”

“No,” Foggy says, laughing softly, slipping his fingers into her hair to guide her into another kiss. “It’s not.” 

They kiss quietly for a few minutes before Karen pulls back, face a little wild when she says, “Okay, okay, take a breath. What are you thinking about right now?”

“Can I still wear white even though I didn’t save myself for you?” he asks, laughing when she smacks his arm gently. 

“Yes or no, Nelson,” she says. 

“Let’s go to the courthouse tomorrow,” he says. 

His mom will be  _ pissed  _ but that’s okay. Karen actually looks happy.

*

They get tipsy at brunch the next morning and get married by noon. Karen wears a white sundress and he wears his second best suit and she kisses him when it’s over, frames his face in her hands before he pulls her into a hug and murmurs, “I’m really excited to file our taxes together, Page.” 

Karen laughs and leans back with her arms wrapped around his waist. 

“Me, too,” she says.

They buy champagne on the way back home and fuck on the kitchen counter, Karen sitting on the edge with her dress pushed up over her hips and her lace panties on the floor, her legs wrapped around him. 

“Geez,” Karen pants, when she slides down to her feet. “Is married sex  _ better _ ?”

“Right?” Foggy says, laughing and kissing her on the forehead. “Hey, do you think cake is better when you’re married, too?” 

“As long as it’s delivered,” she says, raising her eyebrows, “because I’m not walking any further than the shower after that.”

He researches and orders the closest thing he can find to a wedding cake, sprawled out on the couch with his laptop on his stomach. Karen comes out wearing one of his sweatshirts with her wet hair pulled back in a ponytail a few minutes after he places the order, stopping in her tracks when she hears a knock on the door. 

“That was fast,” she says. 

“Too fast,” Foggy says. “That might be the neighbors complaining about how delightfully loud our sex life is.” 

“They’re just jealous,” Karen says, throwing a smirk over her shoulder at him as she disappears around the corner to get the door.

Everything’s quiet for a moment and then he hears Karen gasp loudly and say, voice breaking, “. . .Matt?” 

**Author's Note:**

> making up all kinds of WIPs that i'll never finish [on tumblr](http://returnsandreturns.tumblr.com)


End file.
